


AU-gust Stories Days 11-20

by Lost_Elf



Series: AU-gust 2020 [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Crime, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Single Parent, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Little angel, Love Confessions, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rhys has a daughter; and it's not even ABO, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: This is the second 10 of my AUgust stories. :) Each chapter is a different AU. Summing things up in the tags would be complicated, so I'll just list important points here for your convenience, and add detailed tags to the author's note. :)11th - Farm/Ranch AU - [T]een and Up, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Platonic Relationship12th - Crime AU - [E]xplicit, Illegal Boxing, Med Student Rhys, Angst, Love Confession, Dark Tim13th - Rock band AU - coming soon!14th - Vampire AU - coming soon!15th -Role Reversal AUCoffee Shop AU - [G]eneral, Fluff, little Angel, Rhys & Angel16th - Treasure Hunters AU - coming soon!17th - Firefighters AU - [T]een and Up, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Plot™18th - Bodyguard AU - coming soon!19th -19th century AUSteampunk AU - coming soon!20th - Single Parent(s) AU - [T]een and Up, Angst, Happy Ending, Rhys is HJ's PA
Relationships: Angel & Rhys (Borderlands), Handsome Jack & Rhys (Borderlands), Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: AU-gust 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859482
Comments: 15
Kudos: 45
Collections: AUgust 2020





	1. Farm/Ranch AU

**Author's Note:**

> **What is AUgust?**  
>  A writing challenge for anybody, inspired by ones like whumptober. I created this challenge for fun after my boyfriend asked me _Do you write AUs in August?_ My answer back then – right after _You are a freaking genius!_ – was no. Not yet. But now we do!
> 
> Already, people of various fandoms are participating, and I couldn't be happier. I brought so much angst and anguish to the fandom, but now I bring something positive, and not only to Borderlands, but to all the fandoms. If you couldn't participate this year, don't worry. You can start later or simply wait for the next year. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warnings: none  
> Additional Tags: Fluff, so much FLUFF, they are so sweet; rated T for the stuff Rhys went through(?), just to be sure; Horse Riding, Recovery, Cancer, Jack is a jackass and a little bit asshole, but he is trying, and Rhys loves it  
> Wordcount: 3247
> 
> Jeeze, I really like this one, don't I? Just look at the "tags", ew! :D

The Hyperion Ranch is known all around the world. Not only for breeding the best, strongest and most beautiful horses, but also for their wealth in stock and land. Herold Tassiter, the owner of the ranch, is not a very likeable person, but he is rich and his busines is thriving.

Herold has a son, Rhys Tassiter. Everybody on the ranch and in the busines knew Rhys, the sweetest child you have ever met. He had a round face, a charming smile, and workers on the farm shared legends of this boy, saying that he has magical healing powers, that the animals under his care can recover from any illness or injury, because he is just so sweet and innocent. He was also charismatic, even at his young age, and many of his father’s busines partners joked that they would much rather work with this boy than his old man.

Rhys had disappeared for a few years, shortly before he reached teenage years. It wasn’t a secret where he’d gone, but many people simply made up their own explanation. Some believed that he had moved into a city to study, others that he ran from the responsibility that the farm was. Gossip, legends and funny stories traded on the farm for many years until the boy, now a man, returned.

Twenty-two years old, Rhys was just as charming as he was as a child. His smile was bright, his heart soft, his giggle warming up everyone’s soul when he ran through a meadow full of dandelions, laughing when fluff stuck to him everywhere. Animals once more thrived under his care. But in a sense, he wasn’t the same boy he was when he left. His right arm was missing, and his left eye was blind, replaced by a blue glass prosthetic. A big scar stretched from his left temple into his hairline, covered by his brown locks as best as possible.

The reason why Rhys spent years living in the city with his mother was that he suffered cancer. He fought a though battle with the illness, needing the care that countryside couldn’t provide. Now that he was finally discharged, every cancerous cell gone from his body, he was advised to return to the calm and clear atmosphere of his father’s ranch to fully recover.

This old and new Rhys found his way back into the hearts of everyone who knew him as a child, and even the employees and staff who were new on the ranch fell in love with him. It was rare, after all, to see someone who was always so kind and friendly.

Even John, or _Handsome Jack_ , the man who was rumoured to be inheriting the ranch if Rhys doesn’t return from the city, laid his eyes on the young man. More than once and not accidentally. Even he succumbed to Rhys’ charm. But thanks to all the attention he was paying to the young man, he got to see that maybe, the boy’s soul was also wounded. He saw that not every smile is as happy as the next one, and he saw the longing glances Rhys paid to the most mundane things.

Rhys had spent the first few months back at the ranch gaining his strength back. His bony body was slowly, gradually covered by muscle and fat again, giving him back his soft look. Even his skin got a little colour to it. But even when he obviously finally returned to normal, he wasn’t allowed to help at the ranch. His father was too worried for him and refused to let him help out, threatening every employee that if Rhys is harmed in any way because of them, he will make sure that they don’t land a job ever again.

And so, nobody allowed Rhys to pick up pitchfork and feed the animals in the barn, or even take a broom and swipe the floor. He was pampered and protected from any possible harm, and even when he wanted to just rub a horse’s muzzle, somebody stood close by, nervously fidgeting and telling him that maybe he should just watch. Rhys always nodded and stepped aside, a sad smile on his face.

Jack had decided to change that, and that is why he sought Rhys out on one sunny afternoon when his job was done. He found the boy laying on a hay bale in front of a sheep pen. The sheep inside was pregnant with three little lambs and she wasn’t allowed to go out anymore, being under constant watch. Rhys was reading a book, occasionally saying something to the sheep when she made a sound. As always, he had a calming effect on the animal.

“Reading a bedtime story to the babies?” Jack teases, startling the boy as he seemingly appears out of nowhere.

“Oh, uhm,” Rhys stutters, blushing and sitting up. “I was just, I needed a, got this book and…” he trails off, frowning when he notices how amused Jack is. “Do you want anything?” he asks coldly, pouting. It looks cute rather than intimidating.

“Yeah, Pumpkin. I need your help with something,” Jack says mysteriously.

“My help?” Rhys asks, raising his eyebrows. “Sure you do,” he brushes it off with a scoff. “Go bother someone else, I’ve got an important job here. Reading to the babies.”

Jack frowns, not expecting being brushed off so coldly. Why would Rhys be so mean to him? “Jeeze, did you get lazy in the big city?” he mocks. Ah, that’s why. Everybody on the ranch thinks Jack is an asshole who hates people, and he never bothered to prove them otherwise. Actually, being an asshole had become his go-to reaction to anything that touched him.

“Sorry,” he mutters, not looking at Rhys’ face because he doesn’t want to know how much that hurt him. “I, uhm, had a surprise for you and didn’t expect you to, uhm…” he scratches the back of his head and finally looks up to see Rhys’ puzzled look.

“I guess I can stretch my limbs a little,” the young man says, carefully looking out for Jack’s reaction before he jumps off the hay bale and dusts himself off. Jack blinks, realising that he forgot how tall and lean Rhys is.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says after clearing his throat and heads off as if the awkward part of their interaction never happened.

The ranch is huge, and they have to walk through various buildings to reach the one Jack needs. It is the stable where Helios’ box is, Jack’s own stallion. He is wild and strong, and not many are allowed to ride him. Even now, it is obvious that the horse respects no authority as he kicks against the walls of his box, giving Jack what could be only described as a death glare. Seeing that almost every other box is empty, it is obviously Helios’ time to go out, and Rhys would also be angry if he were forced to stay behind like this.

“Soon, baby boy,” Jack promises to the horse and continues to walk further, to Butt Stallion. The mare is nothing like her father, calm and patient. She lets out a little whinny, happy to see her owner, and peeks out of the box when Jack takes a halter from the wall outside of her box.

Jack grins and gives the halter to Rhys. “You know what to do, right kitten?” he asks with a grin and goes to do the same with Helios.

Rhys knows, of course he does. He is a little unsure about it, because he’d never seen someone doing this with only one arm, but in theory, it _might_ work. And if Jack’s only intention is to laugh at his failure, he can simply tell Herold and Jack will go bye-bye.

Rhys opens the pen with no small difficulty and steps inside. Butt Stallion tilts her head to the side and looks him over, but she doesn’t react otherwise, standing still.

“You’re just the sweetest, aren’t you?” he asks, stroking her muzzle, with the halter hanging from his arm. The mare notices it and sniffles at it, sneezing and shaking her head afterwards. “Aww, don’t be a princess, it doesn’t smell that bad,” he laughs. “Can I put it on?”

The mare nods and keeps her head down, and Rhys smiles. He starts pulling the halter slowly on, amazed at how still the horse stays. If she moved even a little, he would probably have to start over, but Butt Stallion lets him take his time. Rhys has to bite his tongue not to swear when he tries to close the strap, but he manages to do it after a couple failed attempts. Immediately, Butt Stallion raises her head and shakes it, causing a strand of her mane to fall into her forehead.

“Yeah, you look great,” Rhys agrees, grinning when the mare whinnies.

“Great job, Pumpkin,” Jack says behind him. “Ready to take her for a walk?”

“Sure,” Rhys replies, but he gets a little suspicious. He’d like to know what this is about, but he is hesitant to ask Jack directly, afraid it might tip him off and this would be over.

Rhys walks out of the box into the stable where Jack is already waiting with Helios, and they both head outside, Rhys with Butt Stallion respectfully keeping back so the stallion doesn’t feel like the mare is challenging him. They walk out of the stable and turn right to a small path that leads into a forest. Raiders often go riding there, but it is also a nice place for a walk. Maybe they will really be walking.

Both men remain silent for several minutes. The forest offers a nice shadow and a peaceful atmosphere. Both horses seem to be eager for this little activity. Therefore, Rhys is rightfully surprised when Jack dips into the first meadow by the trail and begins to tie Helios to a branch. Rhys follows his example, tying Butt Stallion nearby.

“Now,” Jack speaks before Rhys can ask what’s going on. “I think everyone’s bought our little act, so we can drop it and get to the real fun.”

A few wild thoughts cross Rhys’ mind, but before he can fixate on either one of them, Jack walks to a dry bush and throws it to the side. Behind it, there are two sets of saddles and bridles. “Walking sucks,” the older man says with a winning smile. “Fancy a ride instead?”

Every cell in Rhys’ body in that moment screams yes. He hadn’t sat on a horse since before he left for the city, and he misses it so much it hurts. But there is still some sense left in him. “I’m not sure I should be doing this,” he says quietly, taking a step back. Even as he says it, he wants to scream whatever, yes, I do. But the way his body always tilts a little to the left with the missing weight on his right is a constant reminder that he can’t, even if he wants to so much he could cry.

“Rhys,” Jack sighs, using his name for probably the first time ever. “I’ve seen you ride a horse back when you were ten years old and I was a part-timer with enough acne for two. Don’t tell me you can’t ride a horse now…”

He takes a deep breath, and when he sees Rhys doing the same, about to object, he raises a finger to stop him. “Besides,” he says in a rush, beginning to ready both horses not to waste time. “Butt Stallion is a sweetheart – even Angel rides her. It’s hundred percent safe.”

Right, Angel. While Rhys was gone, Jack had a daughter, and the girl learned to walk, talk; she goes to the local small school already. Angel’s mother was a mysterious person. Nobody knows who she was and why is she not a part of the girl’s life. Some thought that it might be Nisha Kadam from the Lynchwood Farm, but Rhys doubted that two people with tan skin could have a girl as pale as little Angel. It is wild to think that Rhys had been gone for so long that so many things had happened in this man’s life.

“Are we doing this or not?” Jack asks, shaking Rhys out of his thoughts. Both horses are already ready, Jack a little flushed in the face from lifting the heavy saddles. It makes his scar stand out.

“Yes!” Rhys all but breaths out in excitement.

“Then hop on, cowboy!” the older man says with a grin. He helps Rhys into the western style saddle and adjusts the stirrups for him.

Butt Stallion barely reacts to the new person on her back, munching on the last few straws of grass in her reach. Rhys pats her neck carefully, moving awfully slowly as not to lose balance. He would never imagine just sitting on a horse would be so hard without one limb, but every inch he moves almost sends him falling. The thought of riding like this is disconcerting. He looks up to Jack to tell him that, but the words get stuck in his throat.

Rhys sees the exact moment when Jack elegantly swings himself up onto Helios. The stallion huffs and throws his head up, trying to show Jack that he is still the boss here, but as soon as the man is fully sitting, reigns in hands, Helios bows his head, his body relaxing a little with one long exhale. Helios doesn’t turn into a tame sweetheart like Butt Stallion; he still seems ready to throw Jack out of the saddle, or maybe run away wildly, all the energy and pride making his muscles twitch and tense, but he doesn’t do anything against Jack. When the raider nudges him with a foot, he makes a perfect 180-degree turn, allowing Jack to raise his eyebrows at Rhys. “See something you like, Pumpkin?”

In that moment, Rhys only manages: “You have a nice horse.”

Jack chuckles incredulously and shakes his head. “All my horses are pretty. Have you seen Honey yet? She’s in the small stable, having a foal soon. That’s one beautiful horse.” He smirks when he notices that Rhys’ eyes are fixated on him, especially on his shoulders at the moment.

“Uhm, we should probably head off?” Rhys suggest, trying and failing to pull his eyes off Jack.

“I knew you’re smart,” Jack laughs. “Keep your eyes on the trail and don’t let her come too close to Helios. You’ll be fine.”

Without further ado, Jack heads back onto the forest path they came from. Helios seems to not be a fan of the slow pace, but Jack keeps him under control. Butt Stallion only needs to be nudged lightly and she follows them.

The first time the horse takes a step forward, Rhys’ hand shoots to the horn, clutching it for dear life. But the next step doesn’t seem that shaky, and he dares to let go, taking proper hold of the reigns. “Okay,” he says to himself, “we can do this. Good girl… Butt Stallion.”

The forest trail is a little bumpy, so Rhys pays attention to that, not wanting to lead the mare into a hole accidentally. He gains some confidence as they slowly walk with no casualties, daring to look to the side here and there or look up at Jack’s back. Every now and then, Jack looks over his shoulder and grins at Rhys, and the younger man repays it with a happy smile.

When they walk out of the forest, Jack suddenly gets a mischievous look on his face. There is a meadow full of cows, enclosed by an electrical fence, and an even trail leads around the whole enclosure. Jack gets a firmer hold of his reigns and nudges Helios into trot, then continues to urge him faster until he is galloping out of Rhys’ sight.

Butt Stallion begins to walk faster, thinking that she might get to run too, and she huffs, sounding downright annoyed, when Rhys slows her down. “Hey, direct your complaints to Jack, okay?” he tells her, trying to sound firm and not wistful. “I can’t— I shouldn’t, okay? If I fall, your owner will have problems, and my father might even put you down.” The mare huffs. “Oh, stop it!”

In the corner of his eye, Rhys sees Jack and Helios galloping on the opposite side of the meadow, but they are soon hidden by the terrain and tall grass again. In the few seconds Rhys got to see, Jack looked amazing. Handsome. His hair was being tousled by the wind, there was a wide grin on his face, and the wild horse under him that followed his lead like they were one person created an atmosphere of power around him.

Rhys sighs. He never got to do that before. He was too small to ride fast and wild, through meadows and forests, and then he got sick and… He looks at the mare again, who chews on her bit impatiently. “Maybe we can give it a try…” he says. “And if I fall, no-one needs to know.”

The mare gives a happy whinny, and Rhys nudges her forward. At the slightest touch of his heel, the horse shoots off, trotting happily forward. The first few paces almost shake Rhys out of the saddle, but he manages to hold on by the sheer force of his stubbornness and determination. “C’mon, girl!” he calls when Butt Stallion begins to slow down, unused to the strange way he sits in the saddle. “Show me some of your father’s genes!”

Suddenly, there is a whistle behind them, and Butt Stallion runs even faster. The trail remains too narrow for a while, but after they make a turn around a corner, the trail gets wide enough for two horses, and Jack carefully leads Helios to trot beside Butt Stallion.

“Took you long enough to gather courage, Pumpkin!” he says, winking at Rhys. Of course, he knew the younger man would eventually do it.

“In my defence,” Rhys begins to say, but Jack waves his hand at him, holding the reigns with only one hand.

“Nah, I get it. You have the right to be nervous. I’m just glad you didn’t give up, now that I finally got you here.” There is something gentle and sincere in his smile, and it warms Rhys’ heart incredibly. It makes him feel welcome, normal. Jack isn’t intimidated by who Rhys is or who is his father. He went against the orders to bring a smile to his face.

Rhys slows down and eventually stops, waiting for Jack to stop too and walk a few paces back to him. Of course, he does that with a pose worth of a competition. If Rhys were a judge, he’d give Helios full points for the way he holds his head down but still manages to seem intimidating.

“Thank you,” he says once his eyes meet Jack’s. “This was awesome. Probably the first time I’ve felt human since coming back to the ranch.”

Jack just winks at him again, not saying anything. Biting his lip, Rhys hesitates for a second before eyeing the trail they came from on the other side of the meadow. “Care to race?” he asks.

A stunning grin splits Jack’s face. “Now you’re speaking my language. Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I miss horse riding? :D


	2. Crime AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Trigger Warnings: Religion, Violence, Suicidal Behaviour, Sexual Assault(?)  
> Additional Tags: Mob Boss Jack, Med Student Rhys; yes, religion _really_ appears in this story, Dark!Tim, Love Confessions, Boxing  
> Wordcount: 5110
> 
> Yes, I put religion into trigger warnings. I did it because I don’t want anyone commenting that religion is bs, okay? Any other comments are welcome, but don’t go commenting that religion is not what you want to see in your Rhack. Thank you kindly. :) Also, one short scene happens to be at a church.

The door to the dressing room opens with a quiet creak. Rhys pokes his head in first, and when he sees that Jack is alone, he steps in and closes the door behind himself. “Hey, how are you—”

Jack’s shoulders tense up and he inhales sharply, causing the student to fall silent. “Rhys?” he asks, sounding exasperated. He turns around and sighs when his eyes fall upon the younger man, who is still in the nice clothes he wore to school that day. “You can’t be here, it’s against the rules.”

“Well, try and stop me,” Rhys jokes with a shy smile. Rules never stopped either one of them, not when they were here.

But Jack is not in a joking mood. “Pumpkin, you really—”

“We need to talk, Jack!” Rhys interrupts him quickly, before he can be sent away.

The older man looks to the side, jaw flexing as he holds back, not wanting to scream at his fucktoy and attract attention. “We talked about this,” he dismisses it.

But Rhys won’t be deterred easily. “Please, just listen…”

“Rhysie, I—” Jack cuts off when Rhys steps closer, taking the fixing tapes that he was using to wrap up his hands from him. Instinctively, Jack moves his hands away, but when he sees that Rhys is not stopping him from finishing up his prep, that he wants to help him with it, he relaxes and lets him.

“I didn’t come to stop you,” the student explains as he slowly and with care wraps Jack’s hands up. “I don’t want to stop you; I want _you_ to stop. For me, for you, for _Angel_.” He speaks slowly, reasonably.

“ _Angel_ is dead,” Jack reminds dryly and steps away from Rhys, reaching for his boxing gloves.

“What would she _think_?” the younger man asks sharply, but he helps Jack put the gloves on. “Jack, please, think about it…”

“We don’t know what she would think, because she’s dead.”

Rhys gives up, seeing that this plan didn’t work. “Good luck, Jack,” he says with a sigh. “Be careful.” He plants a gentle kiss on Jack’s nose, then one equally as gentle on his lips, but the older man pulls him in for a deeper kiss, wrapping his arms around Rhys’ shoulders.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Go get ready.”

Biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else, Rhys walks out. He knew that he doesn’t have a chance to stop Jack from boxing today, but he had to try. Although the mob boss kept insisting that Rhys is just his fucktoy, the med student liked to believe that there is more between them. But there wasn’t nearly enough to help him save Jack from himself.

The boxer already earned one too many hits to the head. Rhys didn’t need a license to know the signs, and he even managed to take Jack to the ER once. Jack has serious problems caused by too many concussions, like fatigue episodes, small seizures, memory problems, but nothing can stop him from continuing this, because he doesn’t see a single reason in this world to care for himself. Since Angel died, he considers himself good as dead anyway.

Rhys rushed to Jack’s office where his duffel bag with a change of clothes and a med kit was waiting for him. From dark grey slacks and a black shirt, he changed into jean short shorts and a tank top. He never showed off that much of his body in public when he was with his friends, but here, it was expected from him. As the boss’s fucktoy, Rhys was supposed to look like a slut, _and he liked it_ , that’s why he agreed to be a med student during the day and a part of a crime organisation during the night, even though it meant zero hours of sleep and a great risk of losing his license before he even earned it.

As always, he stops to look at the two frames on Jack’s desk. One is Angel, three years ago, smiling and happy. The other is a sign. _‘Only God can judge me’_. There is a crucifix haphazardly draped over the frame. Rhys was surprised, at first, that so many criminals and shady people are religious, but it made sense, in a way. Even Jack and he met in the church for the first time, as if someone planned it. Jack believed that. But Rhys knew that Jack doesn’t live by the words he preaches. Because Jack judges himself too.

With the med kit bag draped over one shoulder, he rushed to the main room, two floors under the ground. The air was stale there, the air conditioning doing its best to get enough oxygen there for this many people. There were maybe two or three hundred of them, the most he’d ever seen here.

Jack’s kingdom had many layers, and this was the core. The strip club above the ground attracted customers, yeah, but the reason why people chose to buy their drugs and trade black market stuff here, in this rather expensive place, was the boxing ring. So far, nobody really beat Jack, took the title from the boss himself. But tonight, everybody expected this to change.

The men were already in the ring, slowly circling it and showing off. The audience was cheering, the commentator screaming in excitement. Rhys’ eyes sought out Timothy, Jack’s twin brother, who was holding a spot for him in the first row. The doppelganger looked as grim as Rhys felt.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Rhys was thankful that nobody ever dared to touch him, because he always felt exposed in this particular situation only. Not when he danced by a pole in the club, almost naked and heavily drunk, but when all attention was on Jack, but everybody was waiting for Rhys.

The spotlight beamed at him when he sat down, and he put on a forced resting bitch face. The commentator announced that the medic is here, so is the judge, and the match can begin. This was Rhys’ role in all of this. There were many illegal fighting clubs in the city, but Handsome Jack’s club was the only _fancy_ one. They even had this sexy, twinky medic! Rhys scoffed as soon as the light was back to the ring.

Looking up, he caught Jack’s eye for the last time. The boxer winked at him and then turned to his opponent with a scowl. “Are you ready, Slab?!” he shouted, his voice roaring even over the loud cheering of the crowd.

“My name’s Brick!” the other man growled, flexing his muscles and causing the crowd to go crazy for a whole minute. He was easily twice as big as Jack, even though Jack was a big man.

Rhys scanned the room nervously. Nearly a third of the audience were Brick’s fans and friends. His clan and his most powerful people, like the corrupted cop Roland and his partner Lilith, and Mordecai, the hitman. They are the people who came specifically to see Handsome Jack’s fall.

“I don’t like this, Tim,” Rhys sighs, voice heavy. His chest is clenched; he knows how this evening is gonna end. He did everything he could, but it wasn’t enough.

“Me neither,” the twin sighs. He reaches out hesitantly, taking Rhys’ hand in his. “But we can’t do… anything,” he says. “He’d kill even _me_ if I tried to stop the match. He cares about the stupid title so much, he’s gonna die for it.”

Rhys shakes his head. “He wouldn’t leave me behind,” he says, feeling like a petulant child, telling himself a lie. “I did so much for him. He, he wouldn’t…”

“He’s a selfish asshole, Rhys. He doesn’t care.” Timothy’s voice is gentle as he says what he believes is the truth. But Rhys thinks he knows better. He looks up, sees that Jack is watching them, sees his gaze fixed on Rhys’ small hand hidden in Timothy’s big.

“It’s worse,” he says, not really to Tim. “Because he knows I’ll be taken care of. He knows there are people who will take care of his busines, his _things_.” The student’s voice is wry, tears burning in his eyes. He stubbornly holds them back.

The bell rings, signalling the start of the match. The audience goes silent for a few second as Brick roars, launching at Jack. The smaller man dodges effectively, laughing like a mad man when Brick whips around, and tries it again.

“Is this all there is to his strategy?” Rhys asks, voice choked. Nobody answers. The crowd is half cheering, half booing, until Jack manages to punch Brick square in the face.

It doesn’t even shake the bigger man, and he laughs. “This your famous punch? It didn’t even tickle!” He swings his arm, but Jack dips under it, escaping another hit.

But Brick’s other fist hits him square in the stomach. Rhys almost jumps out of his seat, held down only by his hand still in Timothy’s. Jack doubles over but still manages to dodge a punch to the face.

“I like your style,” he says, voice raspy. Then, he straightens himself out and launches at Brick, swinging at his face again. Once more, his hit barely hurts the other man. Jack grows angry, furiously dealing punches, some hitting, other being dodged. He doesn’t notice Brick drawing his arm back until his hand hits him in the face.

Jack stumbles back, and Rhys bites his lip to stop a panicked sound from coming from his mouth. Deep inside, he hopes Jack will fall to the ground, that Brick will win, and this will be over. But Jack remains firmly on his feet, growling empty threats at his opponent. His lip is split, blood pouring from it. Or maybe it’s from his nose; Rhys doesn’t see. His gaze is on Brick, who smiles deviously when Jack launches at him again.

He doesn’t even get close before Brick punches him in the side of his neck. He doesn’t hit square on, which is probably the only reason why Jack manages to withstand it. And instead of backing down and recovering, he spits blood in Brick’s face, angering him further.

Tears spill from Rhys’ eyes as he watches hit after hit land on Jack. Face, head, neck, stomach, anywhere where it hurts. He manages to dodge only a couple of them, but he never backs down, trying to return them. Brick doesn’t even dodge his attacks anymore, letting Jack punch him wherever he wants. His hits are weak, almost mockingly so, as if he wasn’t even trying.

“Jack, don’t, please. Don’t leave me,” Rhys whispers, watching as his lover stumbles through the ring, followed by his opponent and his fists. “It’s not worth it, please.” He knows that Jack can’t hear him, so he implores the higher forces. “Don’t take him away from me, please, _please_ ,” he sobs. But Jack doesn’t give up. He won’t give up until he’s dead.

At one point, Jack falls to the ground, and Rhys jumps out of his seat, tearing his hand from Tim’s, ready to go and help the boxer. But it’s not over, because Jack manages to stand up right after. Brick lets him get to his feet, a dark expression on his face. He knows Jack can’t take another hit, that it will be too much for his body, weakened by age, years of crime, years of getting beat up. He knows that he will kill him, and he is willing to do it.

“No!” Rhys screams, but his raspy voice is lost in the noise of the cheering crowd. He drives his hands into his hair and tugs, trying to come up with something, silently imploring all gods there are to save Jack from himself. But nobody helps the damned.

Brick is already celebrating his inevitable victory. He is walking around the ring, showing off, roaring. And Jack is just standing there, waiting for it to happen. Once in a while, he tries to deal another hit, as if he could do any damage, but Brick shoves him away with just enough force not to down him.

“No, no, no,” Rhys keeps muttering. He can’t just stand there and watch. He closes his eyes, but that only fills his mind with pictures of Jack’s swelling face, his body covered in blood.

“You’re dead, Slab,” Brick states as a fact.

Rhys makes a decision. He knows that he might regret it dearly, but he doesn’t see any other option. He is a med student, he believes in God. He had joined a criminal organisation, but he never hurt anybody, and he is never going to hurt anybody. That’s just— that’s not him! Nobody can ask this from him.

There is a towel on the floor not far from his feet, either Jack’s or Brick’s. It doesn’t matter. Rhys picks it up and throws it into the middle of the ring just as Brick prepares to deal the last punch. The bell rings, and the crowd goes crazy. Everybody is booing and some of them are standing from their seats, pushing forward as if they were to finish Jack off themselves. Guns are pulled and warning shots shot, but Rhys isn’t scared for his life, even as a mass of bodies presses him harshly against the walls of the ring. He sees as Jack stumbles backwards, even though Brick didn’t get to hit him, and falls.

Quickly, and with a great deal of help from Timothy, Rhys climbs into the ring and rushes towards Jack. The older man is breathing heavily. His eyes are open but glassy, unseeing. He is wheezing a little, and Rhys fears that he has more than a new head wound. Broken ribs and punctured lungs would not help the situation.

“I’m sorry,” Rhys mutters as he hastily opens his med kit, pulling things out, in his haste carelessly throwing away anything he thinks he won’t need. “I couldn’t let you do this to yourself, I’m sorry.” He begins to dab the blood off Jack’s face with a sterile cloth, looking for the wounds it’s coming from. There is an absolute chaos in the background, angry screaming and things being broken, but he ignores them. He is only here doing his job.

Eventually, somebody grabs Rhys’ shoulder, pulling him away from Jack. Timothy shakes him violently when he tries to get out of his grasp and back to Jack, and when he finally snaps Rhys out of his daze, he urgently asks: “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Rhys answers, eyes darting to the stuttering but strong swell of Jack’s chest, his still half-open eyes. “He needs medical care, _now_.”

“Alright,” the doppelganger nods firmly. “You’ll go with me, Wilhelm will take Jack. We’ll meet in the car.”

Taking a deep breath, Rhys stops himself from being dramatic and insisting on staying with Jack. Taking Tim’s hand, he lets him drag him through the crowd to one of the exits, the not private one. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees Wilhelm carefully picking up the boss and carrying him to the private staircase. When their eyes meet, he thinks that Wilhelm looks more than a little surprised at seeing them heading in a different direction, but he doesn’t pay much mind to it.

Timothy easily shoves aside anyone in their path, pulling Rhys with him by his wrist one floor, two floors, then three. The student opens his mouth to ask where they are going, that Wilhelm will be waiting by the back exit, but Timothy tugs at his arm sharply as if sensing it. “Quiet,” he mutters grimly, dragging Rhys through the hall of rooms that VIPs can rent for private dance nights. He opens one with Jack’s universal key and pulls Rhys inside.

“What’s going on?!” the younger man snaps, rubbing his wrist when it’s released. “We need to go to Jack, Tim! What’s this shit?!” He is proud of how angry he manages to sound, because inside, he is more than a little nervous. Everybody knows that Tim has a little crush on him, and Jack even said multiple times that if Rhys wants to fuck his brother, he can, but Rhys stayed loyal to Jack.

“He’ll be fine; Wilhelm will take him to the ER,” the twin brushes him off. Then he steps closer, putting one hand on Rhys’ cheek. “Run with me, Rhys,” he says. “Jack will want you dead for what you did today. I can hide you; we can run away.”

Even though he should be scared, Rhys allows himself an incredulous chuckle and a: “What?! You gotta be kidding me!” He tries to slip past Tim, but the older man doesn’t let him, backing him against a wall.

“Are you crazy?” he asks Rhys, voice so composed it is scary, as if Rhys was overreacting and Tim was saying something normal, logical. “Do you think he’ll spare you because your ass is tighter than any other? He doesn’t _love_ you, Rhys. He liked to _fuck_ you, but now - now he’ll _hate_ you.”

The words hit Rhys right in the heart. Even though he already knew this, he still allowed himself to hope. But hearing it said by Jack’s identical twin felt like hearing it from the man himself. A desperate whimper escapes his mouth.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, shh,” the doppelganger coos softly. “Let me help you, Rhys. I’m gonna protect you.” Then he leans in, connecting their lips.

Rhys bites the assaulting lips with all the strength he can muster. Even if he believed those words, he wouldn’t be able to love Timothy. He doesn’t like him, not more than like a friend, and after this, not even that. The thought that the twin set this up to get to him, that he is wasting precious time, angers Rhys, and for the first time in his life, he lets anger take over his actions. When Tim stumbles back, before he can even put a hand on his mouth to try and stop the bleeding Rhys had caused, the student punches him. His left fist connects with Tim’s cheek, causing his head to snap to the side. It’s not nearly as dangerous as the punches dealt down in the ring, but it is ten times more satisfying.

Timothy takes another step back, swearing loudly, and Rhys takes the opportunity to slip out of the room. He hears angry screaming behind him and more angry screaming ahead, where the audience of the match is celebrating Brick’s victory. Even though it’s dangerous, he runs there, dipping out of the front door of the club and turning left to get to the back door.

There is no car, no sight of Wilhelm. Rhys panics for a second, but then he puts two and two together. They must have left without him.

As luck would have it, there was a taxi parked close by, the passenger just stepping out. Rhys raised his arm and ran across the street, barely dodging being ran over by a car. “Hey!” he called out, just as the taxi’s engine started. Thankfully, the driver finally noticed him and waited.

“Take me to the Helios Private Hospital,” he gasped out when the door closed after him, putting his seatbelt on hastily. “Now!” he snapped when the driver regarded him warily.

“Do you need a doctor?” the driver asked suspiciously.

“No, I—!” Rhys growled. “My boyfriend is being taken there. C’mon, hurry!”

Finally, the driver looks ahead and starts the engine again. To their credit, they drive pretty fast. As the world moves around them, blurry in the darkness, Rhys begins to fidget. He tries to keep it to the minimum, not wanting to make the driver even more suspicious of him, but he can’t help it. He feels Timothy’s hands all over himself, even where he didn’t really touch.

Rhys always considered the twin to be his friend, even his _ally_ when it came to taking care of Jack or proving him that he is loved. The thought that Tim wanted to basically steal Rhys away from his brother when he was at his lowest was sickening.

They arrive at the hospital in a few minutes, stopping by the front door, and the driver turns around. That is the moment when Rhys realises that he doesn’t have any money. His wallet, his ID, his everything is at the club, abandoned in his escape. All he has is the slutty clothes and maybe some of Jack’s blood on his fingers.

“Oh no,” he says, voice close to braking. “I forgot my wallet there,” he says.

The driver growls angrily, probably not buying it. They look like they are about to step out of the car and take the payment from Rhys, but the door next to the young man opens.

He had never been happier to see Wilhelm.

“Do you have Jack’s ID?” the bodyguard asks. His eyes flicker between Rhys’ desperate expression and the driver’s angry face. “Any problem here?” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I forgot my money!” Rhys blurts out. “I was in a rush, and Timothy was after me, and I just wanted to get here, I—!”

Grumbling, the bodyguard pulls out a few banknotes from his pocket, giving them to the driver. Then he pulls Rhys out of the taxi. “Do you have Jack’s ID?” he asks again.

“N-no,” Rhys stutters. Wilhelm’s hand on his shoulder feels wrong, and he jerks away from it. “Like I said, I was in a rush. Timothy…” he trails off, not knowing what to say.

“Great, I gotta go back,” Wilhelm grumbles. “You owe me.”

“I’ll pay you back!” Rhys assures him. “Where’s Jack?”

“Operation room. They won’t let you in.”

The words are like a stone sitting in Rhys’ stomach. He knew that Jack was in a bad shape, and that he wouldn’t be able to help him more than real doctors, but he still feels terrible that he wasn’t there for him.

“Do you need a ride?” the bodyguard asks, oblivious to Rhys’ inner turmoil.

“Yeah, thanks,” the student mumbles.

They drive back to the club, and Rhys pays Wilhelm back for the taxi, adding another twenty bucks for taking him home. He doesn’t feel like sleeping at the club, and he is not even sure he would be welcome. Timothy’s words are sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe, choking him. Because of them, Rhys packs more things than he came here with today, partially erasing his existence from Jack’s life, as a form of apology.

On his way out of the office, Rhys stops by the two frames. He returns Angel’s smile weakly and takes the other frame in his hands, wiping the faint layer of dust off the writing and touching the crucifix. It is a beautiful thing, too fancy for what it is meant to represent. Made of gold and decorated with gemstones. Exactly something Jack would like, and something others would envy.

Reminded that he once had a similar meaning in Jack’s life, Rhys puts the items down and follows Wilhelm out.

* * *

The upcoming two weeks are spent in heavy silence. Rhys receives two texts from Zane – Jack’s and his close friend – that Jack woke up after the surgery, and that he is returning home. Then, nothing.

There are always some tests to study for when you’re a med student. Rhys tries to focus on school, and on his friends, but it is hard; he is distracted. A part of him keeps hoping that his phone will ring, that Jack will call. To thank him, to apologise, or just for a booty call. He would take anything. But there is only silence.

Vaughn and Yvette try futilely to pry what happened. Rhys never told them about his other life. They take him out for drinks, but Rhys had never been into drinking. He only ever drank with Jack, feeling safe with him, free. Jack helped him discover his other self. Rhys owed him, and he’d like to think he repaid him by saving his life. He didn’t even want a thanks, just to not be damned by the mob boss.

The first Sunday after the fight, Jack didn’t come to the church. It was a day after he was discharged, so it was understandable. The second Sunday, Rhys hoped that he still wouldn’t have to face him, and he almost got lucky.

When he arrived at the church, Rhys scanned the inside of the chapel for familiar faces, and he didn’t see Jack. He sat down in the fourth row, as always, ever since his mother took him to the church for the first time.

The student barely paid any mind to the service, distracted by his own misery. It was more than two weeks, but he still couldn’t get past losing Jack. Not the other life, just Jack. Even though he had never been anything but a fucktoy to him, Rhys couldn’t stop himself from caring, hoping.

When the service was over, Rhys headed to the exit blindly, not paying attention to people around him. That was until he heard his name called.

Rhys froze and looked up. Jack was sitting in the last row, looking still pretty beat up, but he was obviously recovering. The student couldn’t read the older man’s face, but he was almost sure that Jack isn’t angry, and that is what had him stumbling towards him.

“Hey,” he said. Words began to fumble from his mouth, questions and apologies, all the things he wanted to say but didn’t dare to, because of Timothy’s words. But Jack stopped him before he could truly begin.

“Care for a ride, kiddo?” he asked. It was ominous, given who Jack was, what he did to people who angered him. But Rhys’ head was nodding before he could put any thought into it.

He followed Jack to his car. Zane was driving, which pleasantly surprised Rhys. Because of the seizures, Jack shouldn’t be driving ever again, but he refused to give up on any of his expensive sport cars.

The ride was silent, and when they stopped by the club, a part of the heaviness on Rhys’ chest was lifted. Maybe he was happy that he wasn’t being taken out of the town, and maybe this place felt a little like home. Either way, he was glad he was here.

The student followed the mob boss into his office, subconsciously looking out for Timothy. He didn’t want to face the twin ever again.

As if reading his thoughts, Jack looked over his shoulder and said: “He’s not here.” Rhys couldn’t stop a relieved sigh.

Scoffing, Jack added: “Thought you’d be happy to hear that. I was confused why would he run with one of my cars, some of my money, and a photo of you that the fucker stole form my office, but I’m a smart guy. Just say the word, Pumpkin – if he touched you, I’ll have him brought back and castrate him with my own bare hands.”

“No, thanks,” Rhys squeaked out, highly repulsed by the idea of both meeting Tim again and seeing this happen.

“Well, the offer will be there in the future,” Jack shrugs.

They arrive at the office, and Jack locks the door behind them. Rhys’ anxiety spikes up, but he doesn’t let it show. Or he thinks that he doesn’t.

“Jeeze, Cupcake, _relax_. I’m not gonna murder you,” Jack rolls his eyes. “I just want to talk.” He walks to his desk and sits down, taking the frame on his desk into his hands. When he comes closer, Rhys notices that both frames have been cleaned of dust, and the crucifix is laying on the table, untangled and polished.

“Why did you disappear?” Jack asks simply. “You took your things. I even thought you took the photos, but the one with Angel is still there.”

Blue and green eyes bore into him, and Rhys fidgets. “I thought you’d hate me. You lost the match because of me,” he explains, growing uneasy as Jack stares at him.

“Bullshit, the match was already lost,” the older man brushes it off. Then he sighs, eyes darting to the photo of his daughter. He puts the other frame down and places his hands on the table, looking at the polished wood while speaking. “I’m aware that I… haven’t been very open about my feelings. That our relationship was…”

“Not really a relationship,” Rhys finishes, gaining some confidence. “That’s not how relationships work, Jack. We need to talk about stuff.” He steps closer, walking around the desk. Jack spins his chair and lets Rhys step between his legs, the older man’s hands automatically going to the younger’s hips.

“How could I know that you will still want to see me?” he asks, taking Jack’s cheek in hand carefully.

“Because…” Jack says, leaning into the touch and trailing off. “Because you’re all I’ve got.” He says it quickly, in a neutral, almost bored voice, but Rhys hears the honesty in it. He smiles.

“I love you, Jack,” he says. He had known for a long time, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to say it. But now he basically has to, unless he wants to burn from the inside. “I just want you to be safe. Happy.”

“I’m happy with you,” Jack says, kissing his palm, still not looking at him. “In the hospital – heck, even in the damn ring – I thought about it. I knew for a long time, but I thought that I’m not the right guy for you, that I don’t deserve a chance with an angel like you.”

“Angels don’t pole dance for tips, Jack,” Rhys scoffs.

“Shut up, I’m being open,” Jack grumbles, pinching Rhys’ butt. “When I realised that, it took me a couple more days to do something about it. I knew the stupid title doesn’t matter, but it was what kept me going for _years_ , and I couldn’t just change like _that_ ,” he snaps his fingers. “Guess I needed a good punch to the head for it to click.”

“But you’re gonna stop now, right?” Rhys asks, hopeful.

“Yeah. I can run a boxing club without actually boxing. Let the other idiots get beaten up for once, eh? This handsome mug is worth more than a stupid belt I had crafted for 20$, anyway.” He chuckles and finally looks up. When their eyes meet, he says: “I love you, Rhys. Will you give me one more chance?”


	3. Coffee Shop AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joker n°1, because I don't like Reverse AUs... ^.^" With art by [Pretty Feral](https://twitter.com/HolographicAI_)! <3
> 
> Rating: General  
> Trigger Warnings: none  
> Additional Tags: Fluff, Rhys is a dumbass, Angel is a cutie, Jack has temper problems  
> Wordcount: 3960

_Rise and Grind_ is a small café on the outskirts of the Helios City. It takes a thirty minute ride in the subway to get to the city centre and the other way around, making the district that the café is in almost isolated. Their clientele is mostly made of the locals who take advantage of a café that opens at 5 AM, getting their first dose of caffeine before they take a train to work, as the cafés in the centre are much more expensive and not nearly as good as this one.

The place is run by Lorelei, a caffeine addict – she calls herself coffee _enthusiast_ , but Rhys has his own opinion – and her boyfriend who probably has a name, but no-one calls him anything else than Zero. Rhys’ part in the almost family business is baking. He makes beautiful cupcakes, cakes and other sweets, decorating them using his art skills. His art skills and his university degree in computer sciences are underused on his current position, but he needed to take a break from the corporate world after being bullied out of his position at Hyperion. His paintings are hanged on the walls of the sitting area, rarely bought by some of the regulars who take pity on him.

Days blur together when you work at a place like this. If anything special happens at all, then it is either an angry, entitled customer, or someone buying a painting. Once or twice, there was a crime committed in one of the nearby small shops, or an attempted burglary at the café, every time stopped by Zero. Rhys is sure that even this day will fade into a blurred memory nobody cares about in a few weeks, but right now, he is trembling in nervous excitement.

It started out normally. An unusual movement behind the big windows of the café caught his attention, so he looked up from rearranging the pastry laid out in the showcase. It was past the lunch rush, long before people would leave work and come to treat themselves to something sweet and Lorelei would come to help him out. Only three customers were here now; a pair of teenage girls – either friends or dates, he wasn’t sure – and a lone young man who worked on his laptop while drinking one green tea after the other.

The movement turned out to be a small girl who was crying and looking around. She was alone, as far as Rhys could see. Maybe she was lost, and that was bad.

Their eyes met – hers beautiful, vibrant blue, and his boring brown – and she stopped sobbing for a while, rubbing her eyes. Rhys produced what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The last thing they needed was for the girl to be scared of him and run away, getting even more lost.

Taking a chocolate lollipop, Rhys walked outside, still holding eye contact with the girl as if she were to disappear. The bell on the door clinked as he opened it and crouched in the doorframe.

“Hey,” he said softly, offering the lollipop to the girl. “I’m Rhys, I’m a waiter in this café. Are you lost?”

The girl contemplated him, then the lollipop, and then nodded, letting out a few sobs.

“It's okay,” Rhys soothed, offering a hand instead. “Come inside, and we’ll find your parents.”

The girl remained wary for a few more seconds, looking at him, the café logo, his apron, and him again. Then she probably decided that Rhys is a friend, because she jumped into his arms, hugging him and sobbing into his shirt.

“Oh—” Rhys startled, nervously looking around. There was nobody in the street beside them, so he hesitantly returned the hug, stroking the girl’s long black hair gently until she calmed down. “Come on,” he took her hand when she finally let go of him. “I’ll take you inside, and we’ll call your parents, or the police.”

The girl blanched, her already very pale skin losing even the last bit of colour. She shook her head, more tears rolling down her face.

“Not the police? Okay, we can try to contact your parents directly,” Rhys promised, finally getting the girl to walk inside with him. She was small, and he had to lean to the side a little to be able to hold her hand.

“What is your name?” he asked after he helped her sit in a chair on two pillows.

“Angel,” she replied, her voice weak.

“That's a nice name,” Rhys smiled at her. “How old are you?” he asked next.

“Five,” the girl replied. “But my birthday is in October.”

“That’s in less then two months. You’re gonna be six soon,” Rhys hummed. As they talked, the girl seemed to relax more and more. “So, do you know where you live?” he asked, hopeful.

Angel looked into her lap, twiddling her fingers. “On the 69th floor.”

“You don’t know where the building is,” Rhys noted. Angel shook her head, but he didn’t lose hope. Rhys took out his phone and searched for the highest buildings in the Helios City. Then, it hit him. “You live in Helios, right?” he asked to be sure. The girl nodded.

There are only a few buildings higher than 68 floors, all of them in the city centre. “How did you get here?” he mused. “Did you come here with your parents?” That would be the obvious and simple explanation, and Rhys cursed himself for not figuring it out sooner.

“No,” Angel whimpered, tugging at her shirt sleeves. “I... I wanted to ride in the subway. Daddy wouldn’t allow me, so I ran. It took me here. I don’t know how to get back.” She broke out sobbing once more, and Rhys had to bribe her with hot cocoa to get her to calm down again.

His search narrowed the choice of buildings to five skyscrapers. Each of them was more than 70 floors tall, making it possible for the girl to live on the 69th floor.

“Do you know anything interesting that is close to your home, so close that you can walk there? Some park, sweetshop, gallery...” he asked.

Angel thought for a while and then shook her head. “My daddy drives everywhere by car. Sometimes, we go to the science theme park.”

The search was narrowed down to four buildings, because the fifth one was in a no driving zone. Rhys decided that the best way to go about it is to show Angel pictures of the buildings, so he did that, flipping through the results of the image search one by one. But none of them was familiar to the girl.

They gave looking for her address a couple more tries, but then Rhys gave up. He sighed and put the phone away. The man with the laptop decided to pay and leave, giving the girl a curious look as if only now noticing that she was there – while the teenage girls kept giving Rhys dirty side-glances the whole time. He paid for all the tea and left. Rhys brought a cupcake for the girl as another bribery. It was decorated as a little kitten, and the child loved it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call the police?” he asked, wrecking his brain for a way to find the girl’s way home. “They would know how to find your parents.”

Angel shook her head again, eyes already filling with tears. “No!” she said resolutely, which was kind of cute. “They don’t like daddy, and he says they would take me away from him if they thought he isn’t caring for me. I shouldn’t have run...” she whimpered.

Rhys thought that the adult shouldn’t have let her run, but he didn’t say that, patting the girl’s shoulder reassuringly. He didn’t want to break her family before he tried everything, though. Being raised by adoptive parents after living with three separate foster families, he didn’t have it in him to do that to another child.

“Okay, where does your daddy work?” he asked with new energy. If he was a business owner or something, he might have a social media page or something, and contact info shared publicly on the echonet.

To that, Angel answered immediately. “Hyperion!”

Rhys winced, hoping that her father is not one of the bullies and assholes he had faced. But that would be very unlikely. Nobody would want to have children with such lowlifes.

“What is his full name?” he asked. “And do you know what position he is on?”

“Hmm, he is the boss,” Angel said thoughtfully. “He has aaaaaaall the people under him.”

Upper management, then. That was promising. People like that often have business cards online. “His name?” he asked, opening the browser again. He was already typing _‘hyperion business card’_ , adding the name when Angel said it. Then, he paused. “Uhm, can you repeat that?” he asked.

“Jack Lawrence,” Angel said clearly. “But everybody calls him Handsome Jack. I don’t think he is handsome. All boys are ugly and stink.”

Rhys blinked at the girl, in the corner of his eyes noticing that the teenagers were staring too. “Uh...” he said, not sure what to think. Children are easily confused, gullible, they make things up... _Right?_ “I didn’t know he had a daughter,” he said carefully, prodding at the subject.

“He says I’m a secret. Sometimes, he says that he will make all people who touch me disappear, because I’m his most precious treasure!” At that, Angel smiled, and the teenagers hastily decided to leave. Rhys gave them a dirty glare as he accepted their money, thinking of them as traitors.

He sat down at the table with Angel again with a gulp and considered, for just a second, that Handsome Jack really is her father. “Do you know how to contact your father?” he asked. “Phone number, email, anything.”

“I usually use phone,” Angel shrugged. “He never turns his private phone off so I can call him even if he is at the other end of the world or in a meeting. Sometimes, when I call him during a meeting, he says I saved someone’s life!”

Rhys believed that. Handsome Jack is notoriously known for his short temper. He fires people daily for nothing.

Suddenly, it hit Rhys. He opened the image search again and showed Angel a picture of the Hyperion building. It has 69 floors, the top one believed to be the CEO's penthouse. The girl confirmed that she lives there.

But the building is in the centre of a large area with restricted access. Only Hyperion employees can get close. If Angel really is a secret, then even turning up at the gates with her wouldn’t get them in.

Humming thoughtfully, Rhys tried to search for Handsome Jack’s private number a couple times, but he didn’t find anything. The closest he got was his secretary’s office.

“Okay, I’m gonna try to contact him,” he said, dialling the number and crossing his fingers. Angel mimicked it, crossing her fingers on both hands briefly before tugging at her sleeves again.

A soft tune was played while Rhys waited for his turn. He started twelfth in the line, moving forward quite quickly. When he finally heard an annoyed voice asking who is calling, he sighed.

“This is Rhys Strongfork, I need to speak with Handsome Jack,” he said. “I have—”

“Wait,” the voice cut him off sharply, even more annoyed. There was some typing on a keyboard in the background, and then the voice continued. “You need to schedule a meeting with his secretary.”

“I thought you are his secretary,” he said, frowning in confusion. “The web said—”

“Secretary’s office,” the voice finished for him. “I’m Megan’s PA. She is out on important business. Call tomorrow between 6 AM and 8 PM. Book a meeting with her if you want to be sure she will have time. The first free block I have for you is next Wednesday at 10:37. Can I get your name so I can book it for you? Will you be calling from this number?”

“Wa-wa-wait,” Rhys interrupted their speech. “I need to talk to her _now_. I mean, to Handsome Jack. Can you just give me his private number?”

“I don’t have his private number,” the PA answered, disinterested. “If you don’t want to talk to Megan—”

“I need to talk to Megan,” Rhys insisted. “But right now. She must have a phone or something, right?”

“Why do you need to speak to Megan?” the voice asked, sounding bored now, as if this conversation happened too often.

“Because I need Handsome Jack’s number,” Rhys groaned out. “I have something for him that he will want, but I don’t have a way to contact him. You wouldn’t want him to be angry, right? This is really important to him, a personal matter.”

There was a minute of silence, giving Rhys hope. But then it crashed again as the PA said: “I don’t work for Handsome Jack; I don’t have insight on what is important to him or not. Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“But Megan would know!” Rhys blurted out too quickly, wildly gesticulating even though only Angel could see him. “Please, this is really, really important. Really, really, really, really, really important. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really—”

“Fine!” the PA snapped. “I’ll redirect you to Meg's private phone now. She will be pissed, enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Rhys breathed out, relaxing. While the phone rang another waiting melody, he turned to Angel. “Does your father’s secretary know about you?”

The girl shook her head. Rhys’ hand clenched into a fist under the table. He was in for another awkward and highly frustrating call, wasn’t he?

A nervous voice asked him who he is right after the line connected, startling him.

“Uh, Rhys Strongfork, uh,” he replied. “Are you Handsome Jack’s secretary?” he asked, partially expecting another middleman.

“Yes, but I’m not in the office right now. Who gave you my number?” She seemed to grow more nervous, and Rhys hoped he won’t face legal trouble for this. Or Handsome Jack’s wrath.

“Your PA. _I need to talk to Handsome Jack right now!_ ” he blurted out quickly when he heard Megan breathing in, probably to tell him to call later. “It is really important, question of life and death, please! I _need_ his private number.”

There was a moment of silence, and Rhys considered repeating the words slower, because maybe she didn’t understand. Then, Megan took a deep breath and said: “I can’t do that. The number is private. I can schedule you a meeting three weeks in advance.”

Rhys smashed his head onto the table, making Angel giggle. “I need to talk to him _now_ ,” he _whined_. “Please, this is important. Please, please, please...”

The same strategy didn’t work twice. The secretary interrupted him, voice stern and serious. “Look, Mister Stronfort, I don’t think you understand. Handsome Jack doesn’t take calls from anybody who asks. You need to tell me what you have for him that is so important and then I will decide whether to schedule you an earlier meeting. Playing secretive won’t get you anywhere. Tell me now or stop bothering me; I have an important job that I need to return to.”

Rhys groaned, contemplating telling her, but the woman might be fired for knowing, or even disappear for all he knows about the CEO. And what would happen to him if he went spilling the secret so easily? That is the question that bothered him the most.

“This is a secret, and it is a matter of life and death. Please, I... I know Handsome Jack personally, but I don’t have any way to contact him directly,” he lied. “You need to help me. Whole lives are at risk, not careers, _lives_!”

He heard a rather annoyed huff and then a sceptical: “Can you prove that you know my boss personally?”

Rhys thought quickly, then winked at Angel, who he knew was listening to the conversation. “Tell me something about him,” he whispered to her, covering the phone with a hand. “Favourite food, how he drinks coffee, anything.”

The girl thought, putting a finger on her lips, and then made an _oh_ sound. “He wears funny socks! Not many people notice, he hides them in his shoes. I like the unicorn ones the most!”

“He wears socks with pictures,” Rhys muttered quickly into the phone. But the line had gone silent while Angel contemplated the question.

Fearing that his number was about to be blocked, especially if he called again, Rhys quickly typed out a message: _He wears funny socks!!!_

When it was sent, he realised how random and crazy that must have looked. And what if Megan never saw Jack shoeless, which is more than possible? He would just lose their only way to contact Jack directly, and they would have to call the police.

Rhys was about to call Megan again, give it one last try before he bore the sad news to Angel, but then a notification appeared on the screen. He got a phone number as an answer from the secretary.

“Yes!” Rhys shouted, jumping from his seat in joy. “I got the number!” he told Angel jovially. The girl smiled at him, a wide grin.

Without thinking about it, Rhys called the number. It connected after two rings, and he was very happy that he was standing a few steps away from Angel at that moment, because the first few words weren’t friendly.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get my number?!” the man on the other end of the line growled, audibly pissed off.

“Uhm, Rhys Strongfork,” he introduced himself with a gulp. “I have your daughter.”

The air in the café seemed to freeze as something shattered on the other end of the line, sounding like glass. Then another and another, until Jack finally spoke again. “How—?! What do you _want_?! I swear if you hurt her I’m gonna—!”

“Oh, no, not like that!” Rhys interrupted quickly, gulping again. Sweat broke out on his forehead. “I, I mean she is with me. She got lost and I offered to help her. What I said sounded terrible, I’m sorry, _please don’t make me disappear_.” His voice turned high at the last words.

There was a short pause filled only with Jack’s heavy breathing, and then he spoke again in a strained voice. “Let me talk to her.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rhys agreed, and all too happily handed the phone to the girl, stepping away again.

“Daddy?” Angel all but whimpered into the phone, new tears appearing in her eyes. “Daddy, I miss you! ... I’m, I’m al-alright,” she sobbed. “No, I’m fine. Rhys is nice. ... I’m at his café. ... Hot cocoa and a cupcake, and some chocolate. ... But it was good!” Tears gradually disappeared from her face as she talked to her father, currently replaced by a frown. “But I—! ... Okay, I’ll tell him. ... Okay. ... Will you come for me soon? ... Okay. Here,” she handed the phone back to Rhys.

“Your address?” Jack asked gruffly, and Rhys told him. The line cut off, and Rhys sagged into a nearby chair. Angel jumped off hers and rushed to him, hugging him and crying after she climbed into his lap with obvious effort.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding her gently.

“I did e-everything wro-wrong!” she sobbed. “Daddy was worried, a-and I ate something I wasn’t supposed to!”

Too late Rhys realised that maybe he shouldn’t be giving a strange kid a cupcake. He was lucky she wasn’t allergic to anything.

“Your daddy was scared, but that is normal. Parents always worry about their kids. He will be happy that you found a safe place to stay at. C’mon, let’s busy ourselves while waiting. It will make the time run quicker.”

Rhys let Angel sit on the counter while he put some pastries in the oven, telling her how things work to get her attention away from worrying. He decorated a few cupcakes with her help and let her serve a customer who ordered a coffee and a croissant to go (Rhys made the coffee and packed the order, but he let Angel tap the buttons on the cash register and give the man his receipt).

They were in the middle of cleaning up the decorating tools, because Rhys didn’t expect to sell too many of the cupcakes on Tuesday, when the door opened.

(Art by [Pretty Feral](https://twitter.com/HolographicAI_))

“Daddy!” Angel shouted, turning on the counter. She looked like she was contemplating jumping off the counter to run to him, but she didn’t have to, because Jack ran up to her and pulled her into his arms, carefully squeezing her.

(Art by [Pretty Feral](https://twitter.com/HolographicAI_))

“Angel, sweetheart, why did you run from the hospital?” he asked, but he didn’t sound even the slightest bit angry, just tired. He rolls up one of her sleeves carefully, revealing an IV tube taped to her small arm and checking it.

“Hospital?”

The question slipped Rhys’ lips before he could stop it, making Jack look up and focus on him for a while. “Yeah, hospital,” he said dryly. “Angel was supposed to tell you after we spoke. She ran from the hospital where she is getting treated at.”

Suddenly, giving a kid a cupcake seemed like a serious crime. Rhys gulped, paling a little and hoping to God that he didn’t cause any problems. He began to say that he is sorry for any trouble he caused, but Jack interrupted him.

“You didn’t cause any trouble, Cupcake.” Rhys blushed at the pet name, and Jack smirked, looking in the direction of the pastry showcase. “Look, what you said into the phone was stupid, and I overreacted. Without you, who knows what would happen. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Rhys assured, wondering how did he even manage to say something senseful while usually he would just put his foot in his mouth.

Jack smirked again, and then looked at the door. Angel was asleep in his arms, probably exhausted form the crazy day and happy to finally be safe. “Well, we should get this tiny devil back to her doctor,” he said. “You can keep my number, by the way. Actually, I insist you do that, and send me the address of this place and your shifts for the next three weeks. Can you do that? Thanks. And call me if you need _anything_.” He put so much emphasis on the last word that Rhys contemplated asking for a murder, just to see if that’s a possibility. Then, more sensibly, he contemplated getting work at Hyperion again.

Just before they walked out, Angel raised her head sleepily and asked: “Daddy, will we come here again?”

“I took care of that,” the man replied, kissing her forehead. Then they were gone.

And here Rhys was, staring at the little Seen on his screen. Staring at the messages that he sent to a number he didn’t even bother saving, because it felt inappropriate, because it felt _unreal_. He was sure that this was the end of it, that this would be another barely memorable moment in his dull life as a self-proclaimed baker.

Putting the phone on the counter, Rhys left to get some supplies from the back room. Just as he disappeared, the screen lit up with a message.

_I have a 3 hrs free block on Monday. We’ll come have hot cocoa and Cupcakes. Dress up pretty for Angel, ok? You’re the first person besides family she spoke to since her mother died. We like you. ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, I didn't manage to fit in Jack buying all the cupcakes in the shop. :-/


	4. Single Parent AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warnings: Mentioned Drug Use, Implied Addiction, Child Abandonment and Neglect  
> Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff, Mia is a sweet girl, Rhys is tired, Jack has feelingsTM; rated T for the stuff Rhys and Mia went through  
> Wordcount: 2498

Rhys dreams about his daughter. It is a nice dream about him and Mia travelling to an exotic planet and finding an unrealistically big and colourful shell on the beach. Mia’s grin is toothy as always, reminding him of her mother, back before she...

This is always the point when he wakes up in cold sweat and his calm night turns into a small hell full of nightmares. Remembering Stacy after their daughter was born does this to him. It is better at day, but not at nights when his guard is down and he is exposed and vulnerable towards regrets.

They have never been in a proper relationship. Stacy was with someone else when they started seeing each other, so they were more like guilty fuck buddies than something else. When she finally broke up with the other guy, they only dated for a week, and then she left Rhys too. When she called him that she is pregnant and doesn’t care about his opinion, determined to keep the child whether he pays support or not, he was fine to just forget about them, a little heartbroken and not caring about a brat.

Then, months later, he received a photo, a name and a few measurements. Mia was so small when she was born, and so cute. He had to see her.

Stacy had moved to the other side of the continent after they stopped seeing each other, so getting there took some time. Getting a hotel, train tickets, someone to look after his house while he is gone, it all took about a week. Mia was two weeks old when he finally arrived. Stacy was gone already.

She was never conventionally attractive in the first place, but now she looked _horrifying_. Like death. Rhys was told that this is what the new drug does to people. Stacy started taking right after the birth and forgot about her daughter. The grandparents were taking care of the baby, but they were planning to give her up for adoption.

A very short legal hassle later, some job hunting and a moving off the planet, and Rhys got himself a position at Hyperion. Helios promised childcare and great schools, insurance and bonuses, even stipends for any university a _Child of Hyperion_ chooses.

It went to hell again when Mia was two and Henderson went for a walk in space. Rhys was demoted, but he only spent one week sweeping floors. Then he was promoted, and Vasquez actually got sick with envy, spending a month in hospital after he learned that Rhys is now working for Handsome Jack himself after sweeping his floor once and being sassy.

Jack... He was different than people believed. As a boss, he was alright. Rhys’ workload was crazy, but whenever he needed an emergency time off, he got it. Jack never killed him, though he threatened him quite often, usually early in the morning before he drank his coffee and late in the evening when they got to the least satisfying reports.

Jack was exactly as dangerous as people believed, without doubt, but not to Rhys, his good enough PA.

With that thought, satisfied with himself, completely forgetting about the shadows of past, Rhys almost managed to fall asleep again. He thought back to his dream, the beach, the toothy smile, and relaxed.

But he was woken up by sharp pain in his neck, and that was when he finally realised that it is not night, he is not at home, and he is in trouble.

Sitting up abruptly, Rhys was suddenly awake. He fell asleep on his desk, situated in one of the two open rooms before the corridor leading to Jack’s office. He didn’t always work there, often spending his day in the main office, helping the CEO, but since Jack was gone to the R&D for the whole of today, there was no reason to not work in his own comfy chair. (Though Rhys had nothing against sitting perched on Jack’s desk, or leaning against it with his thighs slightly spread, imagining that Jack’s gaze is traveling down there once in a while...)

Rhys had had another reason to work in this hall today, but his brain was waking up slower than his body. His senses were tuned to maximum, his muscles tense, ready to fight. His computer said that it is barely past 11 AM, hours before Jack makes appearance, so he is safe.

Looking around in distress and confusion, Rhys tries vainly to remember what is wrong, what is missing, until his eyes fall upon a doll laying limply on the floor. Yes, he took Mia to the office today because her kindergarten was closed because of suspected measles case and he didn’t get a babysitter in time. He would ask Jack for a day off, but he didn’t have a good reason, and since Jack wouldn’t be coming in anyway, he risked it and brought his daughter here.

But she wasn’t here now. There was the doll she never let go of and all the other toys, her sippy cup and a jacket he tried to make her wear to shield her from the cold air from the air conditioning, but she just wasn’t there.

Rhys got to his feet so fast he hit his knee on something, surely earning a bruise. His daughter’s name was on his lips instantly, and he let it slip over and over. Maybe he didn’t want her when he first learned about her, but Mia became the most precious thing in his life soon after he got her in his care. But she wasn’t in the office now, nor the long corridor.

“ _Mia!_ ” Rhys called out again, voice breaking as he looked behind plants and every corner, under his own desk and into the elevator that wouldn’t open to her anyway but what if. “Mia, baby, where are you? You can come out now!”

Nothing moved in the empty rooms, no answer came, no giggle to assure him that they are just playing a game. When did he even fall asleep? It had to be more than an hour, almost two! _Where is Mia?!_

Forcing himself to be rational, the young man stops and looks around again. There are not many options. The elevator or Jack’s office, nothing else. He can access the elevator log through his ECHOeye, and he does just that. But it doesn’t show any trips since he arrived. There is another elevator leading directly to Jack’s office, but only the CEO can access that, and if someone used it to get there, they would surely be after something different than a little blonde girl.

That leaves Jack’s office, and Rhys strides in that direction, fully intending to hack the door access log. Every time it opens, it creates a digital print that carries the time, number of people that passed and security clearance. If a person who doesn’t have the necessary security clearance tries to walk through, somehow managing to get the door to open, they are disintegrated.

Rhys doubles over in the middle of the corridor, vision blurry and breathing too fast. There is no way Mia reached the door control and opened it, right? There is just... no way. No. He, it wouldn’t—

The door opens and Rhys straightens out, once more ready to fight as his parental instincts set him off more with every passing second. His arms drop from the fighting stance when he sees his boss. And Mia, sitting in his arms and beginning to wail.

“You alright there?” Jack asks, not paying much mind to the crying child besides lightly rocking her as he raises his eyebrows at his PA.

All Rhys can say is his daughter's name, followed by a sigh of relief. He is already jogging towards them, taking the girl from the CEO's arms as soon as he can. She instantly calms down, always the daddy’s girl. Still, Rhys pulls her close into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head and murmuring soothingly.

“Well, I see I won’t be needed there anymore,” Jack says, hints of something – annoyance probably – in his voice. “When you feel like explaining to me why was a literal baby knocking on my office door while I returned for some documents, let yourself in.”

The door closes, and Rhys sinks to the ground, easing up on the tight hug to look at his daughter. Mia grins at him, showing no signs of crying besides tear tracks on her cheeks. “Daddy, I met Handsome Jack!” she says proudly. “You work for him,” she adds to make sure Rhys knows who she is talking about.

“Yeah,” Rhys nods, forcing himself to sound calm. Mia has no idea that he never told the boss about her existence. She also has no idea what Jack’s daily kill count is. “Did you say hi and introduce yourself?” he asks, buying himself time before the inevitable confrontation.

“I did!” the girl answers proudly.

“And why were you crying?” he gives her the last question, just to make sure everything is alright. Jack once talked about shooting a baby, and that was one of the reasons why Rhys never mentioned his daughter.

Mia grows sad all of sudden, as if only now remembering that she wasn’t always happy. “I missed you,” she says, hugging her dad.

“I missed you too,” Rhys sighs, rocking and kissing her.

Deciding that he should probably talk to Jack sooner rather than later, he stands up, propping the girl on his hip with one hand. They walk back to his desk to pick up the abandoned doll that Mia probably left behind in her exploration and the sippy cup, and then they head to the office.

Rhys isn’t used to being scanned before entering, his biometrics having high enough clearance to get him to most of Helios, but he needs to make sure Mia will be let in, even though the forcefield should not get triggered if they walk in at the same time. He is pleased to find out that Jack had given his daughter full clearance.

The CEO is sitting in his chair, back to the door, looking at the stars and Elpis. Rhys tries to walk up the stairs in silence, but Mia squeals and points at one of the fountains, telling Rhys that Jack let her touch the falling water. Her happiness filled voice fills the room and eases the atmosphere, though Rhys knows better than to relax in front of the CEO.

When he reaches the desk, Rhys clears his throat and waits for Jack to turn around. When he does so, he has a strange look on his face that Rhys writes off to annoyance.

“So,” Rhys clears his throat again. “This is Mia, my daughter,” he says, and the girl pipes in with a cheery _hi!_ “The kindergarten—”

“Your daughter?” Jack interrupts, both eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Rhys says, frowning as he tries to find out what did he do wrong already. “We came to Helios when she was a baby. Me and Mia. I haven’t been with her mother for long.”

That makes Jack frown, his expression morphing into another one that Rhys also cannot quite place, writing it off to confusion or a different sort of annoyance.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

Rhys gives Jack a short and very child friendly rundown of the past five years of his life. Mia doesn’t know why she has no mother, or that her mother died because of an untested experimental drug, so he sugar-coats those parts of the story to the point of code speech, but the other adult in the room seems to understand.

Silence stretches as Jack thinks about what Rhys told him, finger tapping against his lips and eyes flicking between the man and the girl.

“Okay,” he says at last. “You can go, take the rest of the day off. I guess you don’t get much sleep between working for me and caring for a toddler. I don’t get why you thought it important to keep her a secret, but I can’t know everything, right?” His words are uncharacteristically salty for the CEO.

“Thank you, Jack,” Rhys says carefully, shifting Mia a little on his hip. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience that we caused. And thank you for looking after Mia.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jack waves his hand dismissively. “I mean, don’t. To anyone, ever. Need to keep my image.” His eyes stray to an empty corner of his desk where nothing is ever placed and then to the golden hand decoration.

Rhys didn’t get this job for being sane and rational (sassing the CEO of Hyperion as he sweeps his floor is neither of those things), and he didn’t keep it for bowing his head and shutting up (though he did that quite often). He is not sure what makes him pause before leaving, and say the most random thing he had ever said, but it must be the same kind of luck that got him to be Handsome Jack’s PA.

“We usually spend Sundays in the arboretum. You can come with us sometimes, get some unprocessed oxygen in your lungs…”

Jack raises his head at that, both eyebrows shooting up as he smirks in disbelief. “Do I look like someone who would spend a Sunday in arboretum?” he asks, tone mocking.

“No, of course not,” Rhys looks at his feet, blushing. He is about to apologise and leave when Jack speaks up again.

“I do like this one pancake place, though. If you two like pancakes.”

Surprisingly, there is no cheery reaction from Mia, so Rhys looks to the right. The girl is asleep in his arms, had probably been for a while. Jack follows his gaze and chuckles. “She is not scared of Handsome Jack at all,” he notes.

“Not at all,” Rhys smiles. “Mia’s not scared of anybody, but she is a little too shy. My little angel.”

For a while Rhys thinks he hears Jack gulp, but that is ridiculous. When he turns to the CEO again, he is nodding. “Yeah, she is sweet…” His eyes go to the girl one last time, and then he scribbles an address on a piece of paper. “Check it out, they have some cute menus for kids. Sunday at 11:30?”

Rhys accepts the paper and begins to leave. But as he walks down the stairs, he realises something, and it hits him right in the middle of his chest, almost making him stop. He had never seen those emotions on Jack, so he couldn’t quite place them. Now he knows that it wasn’t annoyance, nor anger. They were remorse and sadness.

The PA stops right before walking through the door. He looks back over his shoulder, seeing that Jack is still watching them. “We’ll be there,” he says.

Maybe for the first time ever, he sees the CEO genuinely smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take a break from AU-gust, but I will eventually post every story. :)


	5. Firefighters AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen and Up  
> Trigger Warnings: House Fire, Injury  
> Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff at the end!, Action and Plot  
> Starring: Timothy, Zane as guest characters  
> Wordcount: 4318

_“Capitan! You need to get out! The temperature is rising quickly!”_

The words are so distorted by static that Jack almost can’t understand them, but the tone of the voice is a clear warning. He repeats the order into his walkie and runs out of the door, watching as his colleagues follow behind him, some of them even running past him.

“Is everybody out?” he shouts once he catches his breath, turning his face back to the burning building. A two, or even three-generational house. All on fire, ruined.

 _“Rise your hands who is outside! Athena. Wilhelm. Jack. Zane.”_ Timothy, the second in command, continues to call the names of the team into the comms system, and one by one, indistinguishable figures in full gear raise their arms. Jack overlooks it all, making sure all his people are safe. There is no saving the building, but he isn’t planning to lose another life to the fire.

_“Rhys. … Rhys?!”_

Everybody looks at each other for a second that feels like eternity.

 _“Second floor,”_ comes a hoarse answer from the comms.

Jack swears and silences Timothy with a wave of his hand, speaking instead of him in a loud growl.

“Rhys, if you don’t get your ass out here in ten seconds, I—!”

 _“_ No _, Jack,”_ the younger firefighter refuses. _“I heard someone upstairs, I’m almost there.”_

 _“Rhys!”_ Jack seethes, gritting his teeth for a moment to control his anger. _“If you don’t get out_ right fucking now _, I’m going there and dragging you out by your ear! I will beat the crap out of you; your own_ mother _won’t recognise you! Do you hear me?!_ Come back here right now! _NOW, Rhys!”_

There is silence for a few seconds, and then a light: _“You would never, Jack.”_

Jack screams and kicks a nearby object, over and over until he hears his brother’s voice, much steadier than his right now.

“Rhys, this is madness. You’ll burn alive. It’s probably the fire speaking, you’re delusional. Nobody’s alive out there, so get back here and—!”

 _“No, I heard their voices; I’m not leaving them here!”_ Rhys objects. _“I’m wasting time with you. Over.”_

Cold dread washes over Jack. He knows how stubborn Rhys can be, knows it too well. They have been lovers in secret for three years now. He won’t turn back until he finds the charred bodies of the kids.

Behind him, Tim senses his intentions first. “Jack, don’t…” he says, though he knows that Jack is just as stubborn as the greenest member of their team.

“Anyone else having a déjà vu?” Zane chuckles joylessly and follows Jack, who is already walking back to the building.

* * *

“Jack, don’t go there, it’s suicide!” Timothy shouts, grasping at his thick protective coat, but Jack’s ears are filled with the echo of a panicked scream. He slips out of his brother’s hold and runs towards the burning building. Zane attempts to tackle him, muttering something about madness, but Jack won’t be stopped.

“There’s a kid inside!” he yells, running through the busted-in front door of the small house and straight to the staircase.

There is smoke inside, and the air is so hot that he feels it almost immediately, all the protection doing nothing against it. How many degrees above the safe temperature is this hell? Probably a hundred at least. He really shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be ignoring his training.

A weak cough reaches his ears, and Jack refocuses. The fire is loud. He wasn’t prepared for how loud it would be when he did it for the first time, and how disorienting the darkness is. He heads blindly in one direction, hitting a wall that, thankfully, seems to be made of a not-burning material.

It’s not really pitch-black darkness out there. The smoke is grey and black, but the orange hue of flames gives it an eerie glow. Telling him where he shouldn’t go, where there is no chance of anyone being alive.

The wall changes under his hands. A door. Jack doesn’t think, kicks it open by pure instinct, like he’d done a hundred times during his training, screaming “coming in” in case there was someone on the other side. Darkness, flames, water evaporating from his body and soaking into his gear, the breathing apparatus heavier with each step he takes. Duck, assess the situation, crawl in and close the door. Like during his training.

The room is filling with smoke quickly, but nothing seems to be on fire there yet. He must have reached the furthest side of the building.

Jack looks around the what seems to be a child’s room. There is no-one, he was wrong, and he ran out of time. But just as he turns back to run through the burning building and out, a child crawls from under the bed.

It’s a young boy, maybe twelve years old. He’s covered in sweat and looks at Jack like he was an angel. He might as well be, in that situation.

Jack crosses the room, taking the kid in his arms. For his age he’s sure tall, but he’s skinny and weights nothing compared to Jack’s equipment. He carries him to the window, but the locking mechanism on it seems to be broken, it won’t open, so they both crouch to escape most of the heat and smoke while Jack finds another solution.

He has to think fast. He can’t take him through the fire, the kid wouldn’t survive. Jack takes off his oxygen mask and puts it on the boy’s face, listening to him taking gasping breaths of clean air. He made it this far; they won’t die now.

 _Pool_. There’s pool on this side of the lawn. Jack rises a little to look out of the window, seeing that there is a pool just close enough that he could jump there. But he can’t swim in the equipment, and he’s in for one hell of a shock if he jumps into cold water.

The kid coughs, and Jack makes up his mind. He shouts some orders into his walkie-talkie, then takes off the oxygen tank, the helmet, anything that might weight him down except for the coat. It’s heavy, but it’s his only protection.

Taking hold of the heaviest looking object in the room, Jack stands in front of the window with a softball bat, telling the kid to stay where he is. He breaks the window in one blow, painfully aware that it’s like sending an invite letter to the fire that hasn’t entered the room yet. He curses when he feels air being pulled in through the hole in the window and the heat in the room quickly rising as flames start spreading there.

With no time to spare, Jack throws the kid over his shoulder like a rag doll, climbs on the windowsill and jumps. The pool is not really that close to the building, and even as he flies through the air, Jack is not sure that it’s humanly possible to jump that far. He is too disoriented to know where is up or down and look, and so he closes his eyes and prays that when his legs meet surface, it won’t be the solid ground.

He hears the water splashing around them before he even notices it seeping into his clothes. His legs hurt, and he thinks he is standing, though he is not sure. Instinctively, he pulls a breath, letting some water into his airways.

Suddenly, the weight of the kid disappears from his shoulder and Jack follows in that direction, terrified that he might lose him in the pool. But then he finally surfaces and hears his colleague’s voice.

“He’s here, on the other side! Boyo jumped outta the window with the kid in his arms like some superhero!”

Jack coughs and sputters, spitting water in every direction while Zane pulls him out of the pool, laying him on the ground next to the kid, who is unconscious but breathing.

“Get that kid a blanket, he’ll go into shock!” he orders, snatching Zane’s walkie out of his hand. “And move it, I don’t think he’s got much time!”

He attempts to get up to go personally oversee the actions, but Zane holds him down, needing to use his whole bodyweight to stop the pumped-up firefighter from moving.

“Stop, Jack!” he shouts, rising his hand in preparation to slap some sense into him. “You need to go to the hospital, asshole. Sit still and don’t make everything even worse.

Jack blinks, not understanding what Zane means. It takes a few heartbeats to register, but as soon as he relaxes a little, pain starts seeping into his body. He looks down at himself, noting how unnatural is the colour of his skin, and the blood streaming from his arms where he must have gotten hit by shards of glass.

“Shit,” he curses, suddenly having to fight to remain conscious. And failing. His vision goes black and all the noises seem to be coming from afar.

And that’s when Zane finally hits him, bringing him back. “None of that!” he yells, and then he chuckles almost giddily. “Always wanted to do that…”

“Slap someone in the face?” Jack asks, grimacing at the sting of his swelling cheek.

“No, punch you,” Zane replies.

Finally, the paramedics arrive, and both the firefighter and the boy are taken to the hospital. They meet again two months later, when both have recovered, and pose for a photo as the hero and the boy who was saved, and then they don’t see each another for many years.

Until one day, a fresh recruit is assigned to Jack’s team. The people on his team usually come and go, only some of them staying for longer than a month, but he’s never been assigned a complete rookie. He gives him two days at best.

But Rhys, the new guy, doesn’t ask to be reassigned. He doesn’t take shit from any of the team members and soon becomes their friend. It’s not until a month later when Jack finally recognises the saved kid in him, and Rhys confesses that Jack is the reason why he became a firefighter. Him, and never wanting to set his parents’ house on fire again.

Rhys is fierce, good at following orders and smart enough to know where to ignore them. He and Jack have a quickie in the showers one day, to get rid of the tension between them, get it out of their systems. They agree that it was a one-time thing and they’ll never do it again. Two days later, they do it in the changing room.

What started as a mutual crush soon turns into a serious relationship, as the men seem to be made for each other. They have to overcome the fact that Jack is more than ten years older than Rhys, and that Rhys used to look up to him as his guardian angel, which is definitely not a healthy mindset for an equal relationship, but they overcome it all and continue to have their affair in secret as not to be reassigned to different teams, as it’s against many regulations.

* * *

“Don’t try to stop me, Zane,” Jack growls in warning, assessing the situation in the house. He can’t get in through the front door; hell has already broken loose in there. But he can get in through the back door, or some other entrance.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” his older colleague says beside him. “I’m comin’ with ya. Always wondered how it feels to swim in a pool that’s as expensive as my house.”

The fire has already reached the other side of the building, but the flames are only just beginning to lick at the curtains and the rugs on the floor there. The temperature is pleasant 80 degrees in there, according to the device on Jack’s wrist. He drops it on the ground, because it would melt inside, and runs through the glass door.

“We’ve graciously entered the building through the patio and didn’t destroy anything on our way, over,” Zane reports into his walkie and Jack hears it echoing in his.

 _“I know I can’t stop you, guys, so,_ good luck _, over,”_ Timothy sighs.

“Rhys, what’s your location?” Jack takes over the line.

 _“I think east side, third floor. There’s nothing here, only flames, and I can’t find the stairs.”_ The younger man sounds rather calm for his situation, probably kept together thanks to his stubbornness.

“I’ll kill you when I find you,” Jack growls. “Stay there, we’re coming for ya.”

He locates the nearest stairs and takes them by two, sprinting up. But where he’d expect them to continue and take him higher, there is nothing. _Stupid house_ , he curses inside.

Jack and Zane both search for the other staircase, staying as far away from the centre of the fire as possible, but they can’t find anything. Jack is just considering climbing an outer wall that is on the north side when he hears suspicious noise right above him. He steps back just in time, taking Zane with him when the ceiling collapses.

Both men groan as they are hit not only by debris but also heat. Jack recovers first, turning his flashlight to the pile and finding a very familiar yellow helmet there.

“H-hey,” Rhys says, trying to sound calm, but he coughs and groan. Jack pulls him to his feet, dusting him off without saying a word, because every word that is on his mind right now is a death threat.

“Guess we don’t need to be lookin’ for the stairs anymore,” Zane chuckles, and pats Rhys on the shoulder. “You alright, boyo?”

“Yeah,” Rhys nods, his helmet moving with the gesture, and Jack notices a long crack on the side of it. “And I think I know where the children’s room is. It’s right here,” he points at the door that Jack was previously considering.

“Then they are dead, just as we suspected,” Jack says resolutely, taking a firm hold of Rhys’ arm. The reason why he didn’t open the door before was that the room was most probably on fire, the temperature much higher than the hallway that they were in now. It was too close to the epicentre.

“No, they are not, I heard them,” Rhys argues. “Even as I was falling. Didn’t you hear them calling for help?”

“I heard an _idiot_ falling through the floor because he _went somewhere he wasn’t supposed to_ ,” Jack barks, but as he says it, he already begins to doubt. The fire is loud, and so was the crash, but maybe there was something…

Rhys takes advantage of the distraction and slips out of his hands, quickly crossing the pile of trash and kicking in the door.

All three men stumble away from there. Inside, it’s _inferno_. It’s like looking into the giant furnace of some god of destruction. Flames are everywhere, encouraged by the new air they are getting.

“Rhys, get back!” Jack screams, going after him.

“No! They are here!” the younger man refuses to let go of his theory, even though he sees with his own eyes that nothing could survive in that room. He runs inside.

“Fuck,” Zane curses behind them.

Jack leaps, but Rhys is faster, running into the flames several seconds before him. He must have been in the heat for too long, went a little crazy. And it would be crazy to follow, but Jack can’t lose him.

He doesn’t see anything over the flames, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his other senses. Hearing is out of question too, so he falls on his knees and crawls forward until he hits something that could be a leg. He grasps it and pulls, backing out of the room until strong hands grip his coat and help him.

Jack opens his eyes, seeing the burnt top layer of Rhys’ coat. Some flames are still dancing lazily on it and he quickly taps them out. The younger man is unresponsive.

“Shit. _Shit!_ ” Jack screams, shaking the body. “You _asshole!_ ”

“Jack, we need to move,” Zane urges him and drags Rhys out of his arms, knowing that Jack will follow. He talks to the rest of the team, reporting that they have Rhys and need an ambulance, and Timothy replies that they’ve got it, but their way out is cut off by fire now. And the whole building will go down sooner rather than later.

“Any crazy plan involving a pool?” Zane asks, helping Jack to his feet.

“Tell them to bring the rescue pad to the east side. We’ll jump out of the window.”

“Now that’s a plan, I like it!” Zane laughs before repeating the captain’s orders while Jack drags Rhys to the window. He waits until the pad is in place, secured by the members of his own team and not the other teams, because he only trusts his own people.

“Step back,” he tells his colleague before he begins to break the window. It is a little harder – it’s a fancy thing, not meant to be opened, three layers of glass. But it can still be shattered by the axe at his waist.

“Boyo,” Zane talks to him, but Jack is already reaching for Rhys, getting ready to jump, so he ignores it until the older colleague slaps his hand away.

“He’s _awake_ ,” he emphasizes, and only then Jack actually looks down, meeting Rhys’ half-lidded eyes.

The youngest man of them three looks beaten. The short stay in the fires of hell took its toll on him. Still, he stubbornly refuses to rest, opening his mouth and speaking in hoarse voice. “They… They are…”

“Dead?” Jack guesses, but Rhys frowns and shakes his head urgently.

“They are not… there…” he finally manages, coughing. “Beds empty. Keep looking.”

“You aren’t looking for anyone, boyo,” Zane sighs. “You’ll be happy if your boyfriend ever lets you work again.”

Jack doesn’t even notice the accusation, listening. Maybe it’s the heat – which he got plenty of when pulling Rhys out of the inferno – but he thinks he hears it too, now.

“Take Rhys out, get him help,” he says, turning his flashlight back to the depth of the building.

“Are you sure…?” Zane hesitates, his eyes flicking to Rhys, then the smoke-filled corridor.

“Just do it,” Jack nods, locking eyes with his colleague. Zane nods back and then drags Rhys to the window, positioning himself on the sill. He lets Jack help him with the youngest firefighter’s weight and then topples over, falling back-first to the rescue pad.

As soon as he sees the first medic reaching for Rhys, Jack steps away from the window and returns to the depths of the building, listening. He doesn’t hear it anymore, but there aren’t many rooms left. He opens the door one by one, calling out to whoever might be still inside.

In the room closest to the raging inferno there seems to be a bathroom, pristine clear and white. He is about to back away, the heat rushing to the room and threatening to get him the second time, but it nags at him. He walks in and begins to search every corner.

“Here, Mr Firefighter!” a weak voice calls out from behind the bath curtain. Jack yanks it aside, his eyes falling to two kids, barely five years old, a boy and girl. The girl is hugging the boy, who is unconscious.

“Finally,” Jack sighs. “Found ya, little angels. You don’t need to be scared anymore. The hero is here.”

Jack wraps both kids in soaking wet towels, thankful that the water is still running in the pipes, and then takes them both and runs out of the room. The corridor is full of smoke and flames, but he knows the way.

The girl screams when Jack jumps out of the window with them, and the pain of his ear is a pleasant change after all the heat, being hit by debris, watching Rhys’ lifeless body.

Just like years ago, the first voice to reach him is Zane. “You did it, you old bastard! A hero once again!”

But Jack doesn’t have time for that. He puts the kids in Zane’s arms, telling him that it’s his time to be the hero, and then rushes to the other side of the building, where the road and the ambulances are. He loses most of his equipment on the way, dropping it carelessly on the grass.

He reaches the road just as the door of the ambulance close behind Rhys, so he sprints a little faster and knocks on the driver’s door, asking to be taken with. He doesn’t care anymore who knows about them, he just wants to be with his lover.

* * *

Rhys wakes up in a white hospital room, feeling someone’s eyes on him. He blinks several times, trying to get rid of the blurriness of his sight. It doesn’t go away, so he huffs.

“Look at you, Princess. Awake for five seconds and already dissatisfied and pouting.”

Jack’s voice gets his full attention, and Rhys turns to the side, whimpering in confusion when he feels a sting of pain. His skin feels weirdly tight on him, a familiar feeling that he remembers from many years ago. Looking at his arm, he locates an IV that is pumping fluids into his surely dehydrated body.

“If you’re feeling a little drunk, it’s because they’re giving you all the good stuff,” Jack speaks slowly. “Because otherwise you’d be in pain. Because you run into a freaking furnace.”

Rhys whimpers again, this time in agitation. He tries to speak up, but his throat is too dry, and Jack has to help him drink some water first. Then he can try again.

“I’ll be he-hearing about that for the rest of my life, huh?”

“Yep,” Jack smirks.

“And the… beating and strangling me thing that you mentioned?” Rhys asks, tone neutral.

Jack contemplates him before shaking his head. “First, I don’t remember mentioning strangling. Second, I don’t think the hospital would appreciate you bringing your weird-ass kinks here.”

Rhys sputters and blushes, and they both laugh. “For the record,” he says, defending himself, “I hoped you would say that you’re just happy I’m alive. Jackass.”

“For the record,” Jack parrots, “I think that’s implied and I don’t need to say that sappy crap seeing as I’m currently here, sitting on the edge of the chair waiting for my stupid boyfriend to wake up from coma.”

“I was in coma?” Rhys asks, watching Jack’s face turn suddenly more serious.

“Only two days, but it was scary. I mean, the others said that I was… Anyway. You were kinda awake in the ambulance, but then your vitals went crazy, they had to give you a couple shocks, I might have a court hearing in two days because I threatened the medics… Stuff were… scary.”

“You…” Rhys breaths out, not sure what is more shocking to him. Learning that he was close to death is definitely high on the list. “I—” he begins to say, but he is silenced when Jack kisses him, slow and deep. Rhys melts into it, thankful that he doesn’t need to think about reality for a while longer.

“Hey, Jack, change of guards— Whoa! Keep it in your pants, guys!”

Rhys yelps, pulling away, and he expects Jack to have the same reaction to Zane catching them in the act, but the older man seems amused. It’s up to Rhys to stutter out an explanation, and he frantically looks around the room, as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere.

“Calm down, boyo, I ain’t your mum, I have no problem with boys kissing. We’ve done plenty of that with Jack back at the Academy, heh…”

There is a thud, followed by a grunt from Zane, and then Jack’s hand appears on Rhys’, gently entwining their fingers. Rhys looks up, not sure what to expect, and he melts at Jack’s gentle smile.

“They know,” Jack explains. “I told them the truth, so we don’t need to be hiding it anymore.”

“Oh,” Rhys breaths out. “But that… That means one of use will be relocated. We won’t work at the same station anymore.”

“Nu-uh,” the older man shakes his head, smirking. “You know, it’s pretty unusual for a fire chief to keep doing the hands-on firefighting, so… I won’t be doing that. I’ll stay at the station like your mother-queen, and let all you firefighting bees do the heavy work. We can keep driving to work together and you can come visit me in the office sometimes.”

“Wait…” Rhys holds up a hand, processing the information. “You got… promoted? You’re the fire chief now? Not Tassiter? And didn’t you just, like, skip a rank, or some other necessity? You were promoted just like that? Even though you have a court hearing because you—”

“Hush, smartass,” Jack scowls at him. “Point is, we can still work together. I won’t even be in charge of your work schedule, so there will be no conflict of interest. Unless I promote you, I guess, but I believe you would chew my head off if I tried to promote you into a safer position.”

“Yeah,” Rhys nods distractedly, still processing. Both older men laugh, and he frowns.

“But won’t you miss the work?” he asks, squeezing Jack’s fingers.

“Maybe,” Jack shrugs. “I mean, a little. Definitely a little. A lot. A whole lot, but it’s worth it.”

“I don’t understand,” Rhys shakes his head, feeling a little dizzy. He watches as Jack gently frees his hand from their hold and kisses him on the forehead, and then kneels on the floor.

“Absolutely worth it,” he repeats, smirking as he reaches into his pocket. “Because now I can ask you this: Will you marry me, Rhys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was soooo looking forward to finally writing this! ^.^

**Author's Note:**

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